


A Hard Life

by deanandsam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean is nineteen, Gen, Teenchesters, sam is fifteen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-20 17:30:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3658992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanandsam/pseuds/deanandsam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Winchester contemplates his sons and wishes he could give them more than a life of hardship. While Dean is okay with it all, Sam is already beginning to rebel against a life he doesn't want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John watched as his sons chattered animatedly, huddled close together on the rickety wooden steps.  
They hadn't noticed him yet, hidden as he was by the shadow of the cabin; otherwise the sunny smiles on their faces and the quick movement of their hands as they gesticulated to illustrate whatever it was they were discussing, would have abruptly stopped.  
Whenever he was around, their expressions and demeanor were always serious and he knew he had only himself to blame if they were wary around him.

He shook his head in frustration. When had the father in him morphed into the marine he now was?

The change had been gradual, going from a distraught widower to a man obsessed with training and disciplining his kids in order to defend themselves against whatever had killed their mother, for something had.  
There had been nothing natural about Mary's death. Burning on the ceiling against all the rules of gravity with her stomach sliced open, certainly wasn't.  
But as he'd since found out, the supernatural world existed and it was all the more crucial that his boys learned how to take care of themselves.  
Sam and Dean didn't deserve this, but it was all he had to offer. The only means to keeping them safe.

 

He deliberately scuffed a loose stone to signal his presence, and he saw the boys practically jump to attention, well Dean did anyway, Sam always took his own sweet time to respond to anything that concerned his father.

"Boys," he drawled. "I thought I'd left you to practice? Don't see much of that goin' on."

"Dad!" Dean cut in. "We've been at it all morning. We were just taking a break. Sam's got a cramp and his hand's swollen from all the knife-throwing."  
"Swollen! You okay, Sam?"

Sam looked up at him with a touch of animosity in his hazel eyes.  
Ever since the Christmas he'd discovered what John really did, Sam had strenuously struggled against the hunting life, and John was convinced he didn't openly rebel only because of his love for his brother and because he had nowhere else to go; but John was sure Sam would cause him problems in the future.  
The boy was strong-willed and as stubborn as a mule, all characteristics that John admitted he himself possessed in abundance!

Anytime they came back from a hunt and Dean was wounded, he could feel Sam's accusing eyes on him for allowing his big brother to be hurt.  
One of the first things Sam had wanted to learn was how to stitch up wounds and once he'd mastered it, he always attended personally to Dean, never allowing John near.  
John let him be, especially since Dean seemed to welcome Sam's attentions, the younger boy was gentle and took all the time necessary to stitch Dean up as painlessly as possible.

"Look, dad," Dean said as he pulled Sam's hand forward. "See how it's all red and puffed up from this morning's work-out."  
"I believe you Dean," John grunted. "You don't have to prove anything. Well then, seeing as Sam can't do much else today, why don't we take a trip into town and sink our teeth into some juicy burgers."  
"Sure, dad," Dean answered cheerfully, the thought of food lifting his spirits, while Sam just stared at him as if to say 'you can get round Dean by offering hamburgers, but it won't work with me'.

 

The diner was a busy place for a town that wasn't much bigger than a village, but the excellent quality of the food it served must have drawn customers in from the surrounding areas.

"Wow, dad! This has gotta be one of the best burgers I've ever tasted," Dean raved as he chewed blissfully.  
"Come on Sammy; don't tell me you're gonna pass, " he teased as he saw his little brother scrunch up his nose at the food. "If you don't get some protein into that skinny frame of yours, you're gonna stay a runt for ever."  


"Runt, huh! " Sam bitched. "I'm as tall as you already, Dean! You should be telling me NOT to eat, so I won't grow any bigger!"  
"You wish, Sammy! Then even if you do take me for a couple of inches, I'm always gonna be the big brother. Can't chop off the years, dude! You're always gonna be my pain in the ass little brother!" 

John's heart warmed as he looked on.  
The burgers must have had relaxing properties, for it was rare that his sons baited each other in his presence, but as he watched he was struck by the uncomfortable sensation of being only a spectator to his boys.  
They had a link to each other and a bond he wasn't a part of, and he felt a prick of regret to know that he would never be accepted into their two person world.  
His boys were special and even if they railed against his training....…well Sam anyway...., he was determined to give them the tools to defend themselves and each other from all the evil that was out there.

 

He heard a giggle coming from the young waitresses behind the counter and turning his head slightly, he saw they were staring at his sons.

Maybe he was so used to having them around that he hadn't noticed, but now that he took a good look, he saw they were no longer snot-nosed kids. Dean was nineteen and Sam fifteen, both fine-featured men who would have had hordes of simpering teens following them about, if their lives had been different.  
Although they had been raised in as hard a life as one could imagine, there was nothing uncouth about them. They wouldn't have been out-of-place in a much more elegant setting.

John heaved a sigh.  
How he wished he could have offered them more, but something evil had picked on their family and they would have to see it through to the end.  
Maybe once he'd caught the son of a bitch that had killed Mary, things would change. He could get a job and the boys could go back to having a normal life.  
Well that day hadn't come yet, he mused unhappily and he pushed back his chair as two pairs of eyes shifted onto him.

"What's wrong, Dad?" Dean asked." Nothing son," John answered throwing down the car keys. "You boys stay; I just wanna take a walk. When you're finished. Take your brother home."

"What's up with him? " Sam asked when John had exited the locale.  
"Don't ask me, Sammy. He was fine up to a moment ago.”

"Well, I'm glad he's gone. I always feel he's testing us or something when he's near," Sam sniffed.  
"Oh, come on Sam! Dad loves us. You two just seem to rub each other up the wrong way, is all.”

"Yeah, well. I got good reason."  
"No you don't. Dad's just looking out for us. Trying to protect us." Dean insisted.

"Maybe, but I always get the feeling when he looks at me that… I don't know, that he blames me for stuff," Sam shrugged unhappily.  
"That's rubbish, Sam. Now eat your burger or tomorrow when we spar, I'll kick that bony ass of yours to kingdom come!" Dean grinned.

"You and who else? " Sam retorted, returning the smile, his bad mood lifting now John was gone.  
Then Dean always had the knack of making him feel better.  
He was ready to tuck into that burger. Tomorrow he'd give Dean a run for his money!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John learns something he'd rather not have known.

:  
:  


"You know Johnny," the demon smirked gleefully, despite the fact that it was strapped down to the chair in the middle of a demon trap. "We never thought frying that wife of yours would turn you into a man with a mission, and that you'd become so good at it too! Gotta hand it to you Winchester, you climbed the fast-ladder to become the most resourceful hunter around. None of us is happy to have John Winchester on our tail."

It smirked craftily before continuing.  
"Strange you never looked into the reason for it all; that maybe that cute little baby boy of yours had something to do with the fire. It was in his nursery after all, wasn't it?"

"What the shit are you talking about, hell-spawn," John replied, taken aback  
He knew demons lied but this one seemed overly eager to talk, and John's instinct told him it was taking a particular pleasure in sharing and caring.  
:  
"Aw, John, maybe your brain isn't as quick as your gun hand or you'd have worked it out by now.  
We didn't care about your little bitch of a wife, she just got in our way. If she'd kept her nose out of our business she would still be cooking and cleaning for her big marine hubby, but she had to go in and check on little Sammy."

As John listened he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rising in sheer terror, a terror greater than he'd ever felt while facing-off against the most dangerous of monsters; it was pure unadulterated horror for the thoughts that were beginning to form in his mind at the demon's words; thoughts which the demon then confirmed, taking the greatest delight in doing so.

"It's taken you a while John, but even a knuckle-head like you has finally got it." the demon jeered, a smug expression plastered on his face.  
"It was Sammy who interested us, not her. Your kid is going to be very, very useful to us one day."  
It laughed sarcastically, eyes black as coal in the stolen body it inhabited.  
:  
"You filthy piece of crap," John hissed showering the demon with holy water, taking great pleasure in watching it bubble and sizzle on its flesh.  
"What the hell do you mean? What has Sam got to do with any of this? You better tell me everything or god help me, I'll make you suffer worse than you could ever imagine in hell!"  
:

The demon just kept on smiling, not in the least bothered by John's threatening words.  
"You can do all you want Winchester but I've told you everything I know, so go on, knock yourself out torturing me if it turns you on, but I want you to know that my meat suit is still alive so you won't be hurting me but him. I'll just take a nap while you get down to work." 

And with a flash of black eyes, the demon retreated and gave the human back control of his body, a terrified expression taking the place of the leering one the demon had exhibited.  
:  
John cursed, he hadn't yet reached the stage of torturing an innocent human, though he realized his familiarity with the violent world of hunting was gradually making him harsher and unfeeling.  
There was nothing more he could do for now, he would just have to perform an exorcism and send the demon back to Hell, saving the human, but it didn't finish here.

He didn't want to believe Sam was involved in anything to do with demons, but again his instinct told him the demon had been taunting him with the truth.  
Sam had been targeted for some reason and John wouldn't stop until he found out what it was, even if he had to exorcise every damn demon on the planet!  
He escorted the terrified man to the nearest hospital, turned around and set off back to his sons at top speed.

:  
As he drove he mulled over what he'd been told.  
What could demons want with Sam? He was just a normal whiny teen, as ordinary as they come, except for being a hunter, that is.

Was it really because of Sam that Mary had died?  
Sam had only been a baby; whatever was going on, the child had no responsibility for the death of his mother, yet John couldn't quite quell the little voice whispering to his subconscious that in a way Sam was to blame for Mary's death.  
He pushed it firmly down. Sam was his son and even if they butted heads continually, he loved him. He wasn't going to let the demon's words affect him like this. He'd need to have more facts before being able to judge what was going on.  
:  
:

Dean smirked as he held his brother down, his body sweating profusely.  
Sam might be skinny but he was wiry and put up a good fight now that his height almost equalled Dean's, but his little brother needed to build up more muscle-mass before he could ever hope to take him out.  
He pulled himself up swaying, holding out a hand to his sibling.  
:  
"I can get up on my own, Dean," Sam panted, ignoring the outstretched hand.  
"Come on, Sammy, you're not going to huff just because I decked you again," Dean grinned, taking hold of Sam's arms and pulling him up. "You're improving by leaps and bounds, little brother. One day, I'll be the one lying there griping and you'll be smirking down at me!"

"Jerk," Sam answered but he couldn't hold back the smile that came to his lips as Dean crossed his eyes and scrunched his face up at him.  
"Bitch, "Dean retaliate amiably, clapping a consoling hand on Sam's shoulder. "Come on, let's go shower and we'll get some chow into that skinny frame of yours. You gotta build yourself up if you wanna beat me!"  
Sam huffed good-naturedly. He was used to losing out when training with Dean who was taller and heavier, but this time his disappointment was more acute as he'd felt he might have taken him.  
:  
"Yeah, right," he said, "Does that mean a greasy hamburger with double cheese and onions?"  
"Sammy, you just read my mind," Dean grinned, ruffling Sam's messy hair, receiving a slap to his stomach for his trouble.  
"Ow!"  
They were still horsing around when John's truck roared up and parked right beside them.

 

"Hey, dad!” Dean smiled in welcome, as his father exited the car. "We were just going to shower and get something to eat. You wanna come along?"  
John's eyes ignored Dean completely and swept quickly to Sam who squirmed under his father's intense stare, feeling somehow that he was being judged.  
"Sam, you okay?" the familiar husky voice asked.  
"He's fine dad," Dean answered, taking a step forward, sensing that Sam was being assessed in some way by John, and his 'protect Sammy' gene had flared up instinctively.  
:  
"I believe Sam can speak for himself Dean. He's a big boy now," John answered stonily.  
Sam gulped before replying. "Yes sir, why shouldn't I be?"  
John went on to say something, but he hesitated, pursed his lips and turned away leaving Sam and Dean looking after him open-mouthed.

:  
"What was all that about,?" Dean asked. "You do something to piss him off, Sammy?"  
Sam shrugged. "Nothing I can remember, but it doesn't take much to get Dad annoyed with me."

"Aw, come on Sam! He's not that bad. You're both stubborn and neither wants to give in, is all."  
"Maybe Dean, but I got the feeling he was looking at me different, as if I was something he hadn't seen before," Sam replied sighing.

"Hey," Dean said, cupping a comforting hand on Sam's neck and pulling him close "Let's get a shower and go eat. We can worry about Dad later."  
Sam gave him a watery smile and thanked God for his brother; if it had been only him and John, life would have been desperate indeed  
:  
"I get first shower, " he declared as he wriggled out of his big brother's grasp and darted inside.  
Dean was right, they would worry about Dad later. John wouldn't be slow in calling him out if he'd done anything to make him mad, no point in worrying until they had to.  
TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had always known his father tended to consider him differently to Dean, but he'd put it down to his big brother's love for the hunt which matched John's own, and for his hero-worship and readiness to follow dad's orders.

He, on the other hand, had never made any secret of his longing for the life his school-mates had, a chance to study, a stable home and not having to face monsters every alternate day.  
But since John had returned a few days ago from his latest hunt, Sam had felt himself being studied like a bug under a microscope, his father quickly averting his eyes whenever Sam turned around.

Even stranger was that Sam had discovered a hunt in the local paper, and the fact that John hadn't taken off pronto like he usually did, made Sam very uneasy.  
His father ignoring a hunt was unheard of, especially one in the near vicinity.  
:  
Sam chewed nervously on his lower lip.  
John Winchester didn't take kindly to having his actions questioned but Sam's innate curiosity finally got the upper hand.  
Well here goes nothing he thought to himself as he blurted out. "'Bout that hunt I found, dad. You not going to follow it up?"  
:  
John was sitting at the table cleaning his weapons and to Sam's surprise, he just smiled and replied calmly. "Na, Sam. I called in another hunter to take care of it. I thought we might spend some family time together, You, me and Dean. Have a little holiday."

A chill snaked its way through Sam's body.  
Dad, when he was mad could scare the skin off a crocodile with a simple glare, but a happy, accommodating John was even scarier, because Dad hadn't been that kind of dad for a long time now.  
:  
Sam had no idea why, but he was almost certain that HE was the reason Dad was still here.  
He threw a glance at John from under his eyelashes, and sure enough John was staring at him again.  
Suddenly he couldn't take the weight of those intense eyes on him any longer and he closed his book and pushed back the chair. He had to get out of the room; the walls seemed to be closing in on him like some enormous Venus fly trap.  
:  
"Where are you going, Sam?" his dad asked continuing to clean his gun.  
"I... um.. ….have to ask Dean something," he stuttered trying to keep his voice from quivering. He'd never been as afraid of his father as he was in that instant. He had to find Dean NOW.  
:  
:  
Dean was exactly where he always was when not hunting, training, chatting up some girl or baiting his little brother, fiddling under the Impala's hood.

Sam made bee-line for him; just setting eyes on Dean made him feel safer.  
Dean poked his head to the side at Sam's approach.  
"Come to give me a hand, bro, " he smirked, already knowing the answer.  
Sam had never shown any interest in learning the car mechanics, something that gave Dean plenty of ammo to tease him about.  
:  
He'd left Sam wading happily through his home-work, so either his little brother had finished in record time or he and dad had butted heads again.  
Dean fervently hoped it was the former for he was so tired of playing buffer between the two stubborn mules.  
:  
Sam's face was tense; his skin pale as if he had gotten a bad fright.  
"Dean..."  
He came to stand in front of his little brother, the car forgotten.  


"Sammy..? Something wrong?"  
The elder Winchester lay a hand on the boy's skinny shoulder. A tremor was running through it; Sam was upset and scared...dad...?  
Dean glanced back at the motel just in time to notice John pull back from the window.  
Just what was going on?  
:  
Sam came forward into Dean's personal space, seeking comfort; something he did only when he was really shaken up but dad had been in the room with him and if the oldest Winchester was by your side, there was very little that could scare you.  
Unless it was dad himself who did the scaring!  
:  
"Sammy? What's going on?" Dean asked again, running an expert eye over his younger sibling. "I left you doing your home-work and now you'd think a were-wolf had been running around inside your pants!"

Now that he was away from Dad and 'safe' in Dean's hold, Sam wondered if he'd overreacted. Maybe he was just stupid, imagining stuff.  
"Uh, nothing." He squirmed uncomfortably. 

"I just wanted to give you a hand with the car, " he said, blurting out the first excuse that came to mind, but he wasn't fooling Dean.  
"Now I know you're lying, Sam, " Dean snorted. " You ran out here like some big-eyed hairy Bambi; so now you're gonna spill what's going through that geeky brain of yours."  
He wiped his oily hands on a rag and grasped Sam's arm.  
:  
"There's a picnic table over there. C'mon!" But before he yanked his recalcitrant sibling towards it, he took another glance at the window.  
John was framed in it again, watching; just what the jeez was going on, Dean wondered as he pushed Sam down onto the bench.  
:  
He stretched across the table and tugged on a lock of Sam's tousled hair, the warm humid weather making it curl even more than usual.

"Ow! Dean! What the heck!" Sam grouched as he swiped Dean's hand away.  
"I'm the one who's asking, squirt, so don't try to squirrel out of it. Tell me what happened. Is it to do with dad?" Dean said, remembering his father's stance at the window.  
Sam's shrug told him it was.  
:  
"Look Dean, it's nothing ...really. I don't understand what came over me. I was sitting doing my home-work and I felt dad's eyes on me. That's all. He didn't do anything, honest, he was cleaning his guns," he continued quickly, as he saw Dean's eyes darken with suspicion.  
"I just felt the room closing in on me and I had to get out..."  
:  
"So...let me get this straight, Sam. You felt dad watching you, you panicked and ran out," Dean summarized.  
"You don't really expect me to believe that, do you? I've seen dad yell at you while you stand there with a defiant look in your eyes, and now you want me to believe he did nothing, yet he scared you. Have I got it right?"  
:  
When Dean put it like that, Sam felt like a perfect idiot, but the feeling of uneasiness he'd experienced in the room was still present. He had no logical explanation to give his brother, so he shrugged again.  
Dean pulled himself up. "I'll go and have a word with Dad, maybe there's some kind of presence in the motel, though we warded the room against just about everything, and dad would have picked up on it anyway."  
:  
Sam looked at him alarmed.  
"No, Dean just leave it alone. Dad'll think I'm imagining things and he's got a bad enough opinion of me as it is," Sam pleaded, working the eyes to the fullest. 

Dean put up a middling defence but it was soon breached as he folded to the canine powers of Sam's soulful eyes.  
"Okay," he agreed tilting his head, studying his little brother. " I won't mention you. I gotta wash up anyway and my stomach's telling me it's time to tend to its needs. Wait here for me squirt, when I get back we'll go for pizza."  
Sam nodded. He was quite happy to remain outside, he wasn't eager to go back in anytime soon.  
:  
:  
John was sitting on the bed, still cleaning his guns when Dean strolled in.  
The older boy noticed Sam's books lying haphazardly on the table. The kid was prissy about his stuff, he must have quit the room in a big hurry.  
:  
"Those are gonna be the cleanest guns around," Dean joked, moving to stand beside his father. "You've been at them all day."  
"Can't be too clean, son, 'specially when you life depends on a clear shot."  
John paused for a moment. "How's Sam? He seemed upset when he ran out."

Dean studied him curiously as he lied. "Na, he's okay. Just needed some air. Did you and he have a head-butting match or something?"  
"You would have heard us from outside if we had," John answered; expertly mounting the gun.  
:  
Dean, " I need to talk to you..." John ventured, as if he was uncertain how to proceed.  
"About?"  
"About Sam, " John replied getting to his feet.

Dean began to understand what Sam had been trying to tell him; dad was giving off a weird vibe.  
He felt a chill coursing through him. Whatever dad wanted to say, he knew he wasn't going to like it.  
:  
He backed away from John, pointing a finger at the bathroom.  
"Gotta take a shower, dad, and go on a food run," he said, trying to put it off.

"Yeah, we can talk tonight when Sam's asleep," John agreed.  
:  
Dean walked into the shower and let the hot water comfort him. "Sammy whatever it is, Don't worry, I'm here!" he whispered.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean learns something he'd rather not have known.

:

:

"Dean."  
John's husky voice whispered his son's name from the obscurity beyond the half-open door.

:  
Dean had been pottering around the bathroom, trying to keep out of his father's way in the hope of avoiding this moment, praying John had forgotten or had decided he didn't want to share what Dean was sure to be a bone-chilling disclosure about Sam.

But in a motel room there was nowhere to run or hide and he couldn't come up with an excuse to put his father off any longer.

If he didn't get a move on John would just come in for him!

 

He slipped out into the parking lot where his father was waiting, his large frame braced against the passenger door of the Impala.

Dean had never considered premonition to be one of his qualities, Sammy was the one who wallowed in the moody empathic crap, but when he went to stand next to his father he couldn't shake off the sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Son," John began hesitantly.  
If what he had to say to Dean wasn't easy for the older Winchester himself to accept, he understood how difficult it would be for Dean who doted on his baby brother.

"You know the hunt I was on a few weeks ago? It was a demon."

 

Dean's head came up from the defensive stance, arms crossed and head bowed, he'd taken to confront his father.

"A demon?"

Dean personally had never encountered one and he knew it was a rarity for John too.

"Yeah, a demon, " John repeated. "A mouthy one at that. Said some things before I sent its black ass back to Hell."

"About Sammy? " Dean couldn't stop the question bursting from his lips.

 

Before turning his head to catch Dean's eyes, the anguished expression in them making it all more difficult to continue, John's gaze went to the room where his youngest was sleeping.  
He would rather face a herd of vampires than Dean right now, but it had to be said. His son and right-hand man needed to be informed.

 

"It knew about your mom, how she died on the ceiling. I always thought whatever had happened to Mary was some kind of random act; supernatural bitches killing off family members in a mindless spate of evil just to get their rocks off. But this demon told it different."

"Demons lie, Dad. You've been telling us that forever. Why should you believe this one?" Dean's voice held an unmistakable ring of panic.

 

"He told me the fire was caused by a demon, a demon that came because of Sammy. He said your mom just got in the way and that's why she was killed. You understand what I'm sayin' here, son?" John asked.

"No way dad! The demon was lying. Why can't you see that? Sam was a baby. He was lying in his crib, for god's sake! What use could he be to a demon?"

 

John tendered a hand towards his son but Dean drew back, staring at it as if it were some slimy tentacle trying to grab him.  
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip, the sharp incisores drawing blood and stamping its coppery taste on his tongue.

"Why do you believe THIS demon?" Dean asked, confused. "It's as though you want to accept his lies as truth. You and Sam butt heads sometimes, but hell, that's what teens do. You're not gonna tell me there's anything demonic in that!"

 

But John's face had taken on a stubborn expression, the one that meant he was convinced of what he was saying and that nothing could change his opinion.  
"Because it fits, Dean. The demon couldn't tell me anything else. Said that was all he knew. Sam has been marked in some way and we've got to find out why. Your mother died that night..."

"And it was Sam's fault! Is that the bullshit you're peddling?" Dean spat out.  
" I don't care what the son of a bitch told you. I know my brother. Hell I raised him when it should have been you looking out for him, feeding him and sending him to school, so there's no way I'll ever believe a demon over myself. Sam hasn't got one drop of evil blood in him. Not one!

I might have believed it if the demon had come for me, but not Sammy!  
I want to gank the monster that killed mom as much as you, dad, but I'm not gonna let you blame my kid brother for her death."

 

"I'm not blaming him Dean. But Sam is mixed up in this somehow and we've gotta find out the truth," John insisted.

Dean took a step back, a sarcastic smile on his handsome feature. "So that's why you've been creeping Sam out, studying him like some rare butterfly. I told the kid he was imaging things. Didn't believe him, but he was right, wasn't he? That's why you haven't run off again on a hunt.

I just don't get you, Dad.  
Why are you so up and ready to believe a lying demon when he spews poison over your kid. Or is it that you need someone to blame for mom's death and now you've got a name,... Sam Winchester?"

 

Dean saw the anger flare up in his father's eyes.

John was used to being obeyed especially by his eldest who usually went along with his father's actions, trusting him implicitly, but Sam was a bone of contention and Dean became a guard-dog when his little brother was threatened, even by his own father!

"Listen, Dean. I'm gonna be looking for answers. You have to understand. I'm doing it for Sam too. The more I can find out, the more we can protect him. But I'm not gonna pretend. Demons are evil and if one is interested in Sam..."

"What? " Dean cut in. " There you go again! Sam is not evil and even if he was, he's my baby brother and nobody gets to touch a hair on his head."

:

There was nothing more to be said as far as Dean was concerned. He would try harder to protect his brother from the evil out there, or even, he reflected ruefully, from the dangers nearer at hand.  
He shivered at the thought that John might find out more about what had gone down that night if it truly involved Sam.

Dad didn't discriminate shades of grey in hunting.  
You were either a monster that needed to be put down or an innocent human to be saved. If dad thought Sam was tainted with evil, Dean wasn't all that sure he'd even be safe from his own father.

 

The pale face that drew quickly back from behind the room's curtains told him Sam had witnessed his little tête-à-tête with dad in the parking lot, and he knew Sam would want to know what had been said.

Dean sighed. He had a lot to think about.

When he lay down on the bed next to his brother who was unsuccessfully feigning sleep, he came to the foregone conclusion that if ever he had to make the hard choice between his dad and Sammy..., well there was no choice!

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

The first glimmer of dawn was low on the horizon when John finally stood up, dusted down the seat of his pants, turned towards the motel room and soundlessly opened the door.

His sons were mashed together on one of the two beds; Dean spooned around his younger brother, an arm thrown over his scrawny chest as if to protect his sibling even in sleep.They were far too old to bunk down in the same narrow bed, John reflected glumly, but the price of two rooms when money was low meant less on-hand for food or gas.

John wasn't sure if his eldest was asleep or if his eye-lids had shuttered down when he'd heard him enter the room. No matter, he understood how shocked Dean must be by what he'd told him.

:

He passed a hand over his tired face.

Perhaps he'd been too impulsive; it might have been better if he'd kept his preoccupations about Sam to himself instead of sharing them with his eldest.

He hoped Dean would come to understand he was only worried about Sam, but his instincts told him that if Dean had so far straddled the line between love for his father and love for his little brother, chances were he'd come down heavily on Sam's side now.

Any danger that threatened Sam upped Dean's protective instincts a million-fold.

Well, he couldn't take back the words, the damage had been done.

:

He went to take a leak before bedding down. Maybe he could still manage a couple of hour's sleep

:

:

Dean had effectively been awake when his father had slunk into the room. He'd remained motionless under John's gaze, only taking a breath when he heard his father enter the bathroom.

His arm tightened instinctively around his sibling, the horror of what John had been implying keeping him from sleep.  
Did Dad really believe Sam was the target for a demon? That his baby brother had some stain of original sin on his soul? That their mom had died because of Sammy?

How could the warm bundle Dad had placed in his skinny arms that fateful night be evil?

His dad was rarely wrong when it came to the hunt, but he was this time.

:

Sam wasn't a monster. And even if he were, the little voice in Dean's head murmured, it would make no difference. He'd never kill his brother, he'd rather die first.  
When sleep overcame him, he dreamed of his father towering over Sam, a vengeful expression on his face, a flaming sword in his hand, ready to bring it down on his defenseless little brother.

:

:

The only Winchester who had soundly slept through the night was Sam himself, unaware of the drama that had played out between his father and older brother hours before.  
He cautiously slipped out from under Dean's arm and switched on the antediluvian coffee machine provided by the motel.

It was unusual for Dean and Dad to sleep through the hum of the machine but they were both snoring heavily, so Sam snagged a mug of coffee and went outside, the fresh morning air a welcome contrast to the stuffiness back in the motel.

With the laying of the salt-lines, no window was ever left open to aerate the room during the night and the morning brought its own series of odours caused by the close confines of three grown men.

:

:

Dean jerked awake, the comforting mass of his brother's body no longer against his own. He skidded out of bed, afraid that during his sleep Sam had been spirited off somewhere to who knows what fearful destiny, the image of John wielding the sword still fresh in his mind.

"Not on my watch," he murmured under his breath, throwing a glance at the other bed where his father was snoring softly.

His mind registered the low hum of the coffee machine and it calmed him a little. Sam had to have switched it on, so his sibling must be around somewhere.  
He scooted out of the room, relieved when he saw the younger boy leaning against the Impala, sipping from a cup.

:

After John's revelations of the night before, a part of Dean was terrified his father's words might have some truth in them, that even talking about Sam as some sort of devil's spawn could induce evil to pay them a visit.

But Sam looked exactly the same as yesterday, a lanky body that promised future growth, mussed chestnut hair and two wide green puppy eyes; all defining features of the little brother Dean loved and who couldn't … didn't…. have an evil bone in his body, despite Dad's dumb theory!

:

"Hey," Sam smiled. "Thought you and dad would never wake up. Tough night, huh! Did he keep you up talking tactics or something?"

"Na, I was just wrung out. Musta had a backlog of sleep to catch up with," Dean replied casually. "That coffee sure smells good."

"Why didn't you grab a cup? There's plenty more inside."

"Didn't wanna wake dad."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Here! Don't say I never do anything for you." Dean took the proffered cup and downed the remaining liquid, his shoulder bumping against his sibling's.

:

Caught up in their conversation, neither boy noticed their father watching them from behind the curtain.

John helped himself to a cup of coffee and took a seat at the rickety table wondering what to do next. He'd hung around these past days, somehow afraid to leave Sam on his own, convinced the demon had told the truth.  
His youngest was involved in some way with Mary's death and though he wasn't blaming Sam, well not quite; Sam definitely held the key to solving this mystery.

:

Sam wasn't a demon, of that he was sure.  
John had surreptitiously tried out all the tests on him these past days; holy water, walking through devil's taps, iron, silver. But if Sam had nothing demonic about him, what had the demon meant?

Just what was Sam's role in all this? And if he discovered Sam was destined to turn into a monster, would he have the courage to kill his own son?  
John didn't have an answer to that question. He'd dragged Sam and Dean on his crusade to find Mary's killer and now he'd discovered one of his own sons was involved.

:

:

The next day, John came to a decision. For the time being there was nothing he could do here. He had to find out more and the only way to do that was to get his hands on another demon and squeeze the truth out of it.

But he'd go alone.

Dean needed to stay with his brother, keep an eye out for Sam, watch him, look for any sign Sam was turning into something else.  
When he called Dean to the side and told him he was taking off, his son didn't answer him with his usual "Yes sir" but held his gaze with a glint of defiance.

" You gonna leave us here with no car and no money, Dad? How are we supposed to manage? Why can't you take us along?"

"You're seventeen now, Dean. A man. Old enough to take care of youself; and Sam's no longer a kid either. ..."

"No, not a kid!" Dean spat out, wondering where his courage had come from. " He's some kind of demon spawn, according to his own father!"

:

John's expression darkened." You've got this all wrong, son. I don't want anything to happen to Sam. But to help him I've got to get more information, and the only way to do that is to catch another demon."

"I still don't get why Sam and I can't come along."

"I don't want your brother anywhere near a demon. Not until I've found out everything," John said.

:"Dad. Please don't leave us here like this. Can't you at least take us to Bobby's. We'd be better off there. Sam can go to school in Sioux Falls and I could find a job to keep us going money-wise."

John hesitated.  
As usual when he got the scent of a hunt, he tended to dismiss the practical side of things. Dean had always managed to fend for himself and his brother through it all. But this time, Dean was right. He needed to get his sons settled in a more stable environment before taking off for who knows how long.

"You're right, son," he conceded. "I'll drop you off at Singer's."

Sam wasn't happy about having to change schools again but other than stare daggers at his father's back when he wasn't looking, there wasn't much he could do about it. John's word was law, though Dean seemed as annoyed with dad as he was, something that rarely happened.

They must have had words, he mused darkly.

:

:

When they drew up at Bobby's, a black truck was parked beside the door.  
"Bobby finally bought himself a decent ride, " Dean commented studying it.

John turned to his son. "It's mine. I told him to look out for something suitable. I meant for you to have the Impala on your eighteenth birthday but I guess there's no harm in anticipating the date."  
Dean's features took on a blissful expression, the first one John had seen since he'd told him about Sam.

:

"At least I've done one thing right," John whispered to himself, before letting the keys drop into Dean's hand. "She's yours now, Dean. Treat her well."  
This time, Dean's "Yes sir "was quickly forthcoming. His dad had given him the Impala!

When John got out of the car, Dean glanced back at Sam who gave his brother a wide grin. "Dude, no more walking to school. Got my own taxi service now."  
"You wish, bitch, " Dean grunted, but nothing could wipe the ecstatic smile from his face.

Whatever was in store for them, They'd face it together, or die trying.

:

The End (for now anyway)


End file.
